


The Thoughts of Heroes

by FyrienO



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Drabbles, Other, even tho i hate that word for some reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrienO/pseuds/FyrienO
Summary: Drabble length (roughly) thoughts of the various heroes of the dragon age series.





	1. Leliana kills an ogre and it’s hot.

Leliana bent her legs and with a bloody cry, leapt to the fallen ogre, raising her dagger high. The sun reflected off the steel and the crimson blood, before she plunged it deep into the ogre’s head with a crunch. Flicking back her hair, she pressed her foot into the ogre’s chest, giving it a last look before stepping off. She made eye contact with the warden.  
“I…uh…” The warden’s eyes flittered up and down, then up again.  
“Looking for little old me?” Leliana said, voice innocent, but a smile on her lips.  
“Nothing, never mind.” The warden stammered, but all her mind was saying was: fuck, that’s hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spoke to Leliana after she did that cool finishing move on the ogre and she said that, sounding so coy.


	2. Zevran and Leliana’s lock picking “skills”

The warden shook the chest, growling in frustration as it refused to open no matter how much she smashed at the lock.  
“Hmm, perhaps I could have a try at that?” Ignoring Zevran’s comment for the fifth time, she continued her crusade. The lock was covered in nicks and scratches now but none were deep enough to severe. Still, she persisted.  
“Allow me, I could do that for you.” Slowly, the warden raised her head, then gave Leliana a piercing look. Unruffled under the scrutiny, Leliana stepped forwards and gestured to the chest. Conceding, the warden stepped backwards. Leliana tried to pick the lock, and failed. The warden sighed. Since she was near the bottom of it anyway she decided to scrape the barrel, and nodded at Zevran to try.  
“Heh, I was the best lock picker the crows had.” He said with confidence. He stooped, inserted the lock pick, and the pick broke. The warden pressed a hand to her face, holding in a scream. Leliana and Zevran exchanged mischievous, impish looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way they're actually that bad at lock-picking, is there? Even after I've levelled them both up in it? They must be pulling something.


	3. Wynne the Warden is Sad

The Warden found herself at the edge of camp, staring up at the sky, and wondered if anything was staring back. Letting out a sigh, she settled against a tree, but after a while heard the crunch of feet on leaves and turned to see Wynne, a blanket in her arms.

“Now what are you doing out here so late by yourself, hmm?”

“Just…thinking, I guess. I couldn’t sleep.” Wynne lowered herself slowly to sit next to her friend, wrapped the blanket around their shoulders.

“And what has you so worried?” She asked. The warden smiled ruefully.

“What doesn’t have me worried.” Wynne patted her arm, joining her observation of the stars. “Do you believe in the maker, Wynne?” The warden asked after a while, closing her eyes to better feel the night on her skin.

“To a certain extent, but I do not feel governed by my beliefs, why do you ask?”

“If there is a maker, how can He let all these terrible things happen? Why are there darkspawn? Why is there suffering? Why did-“ her voice caught, “why did my family have to die?”

“Oh, child.” Wynne rested a hand on the warden’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You are so young, to have all this thrust upon your shoulders. There are many terrible things in the world, but also many good things. Yes, you must face the darkspawn, and your family has suffered, but you have found goodness, have you not? You have found friends, allies. As for the maker…” She paused, gathering her words. “I believe that should the maker exist, He is far more distant than the chantry would believe. We must make our own goodness in the world, rather than relying on some unknown force. I believe we can find happiness that way.” The warden turned to Wynne, smiled.

“Thank you, Wynne. I’m glad you’re here.” Wynne nodded, and they both returned their attention to the sky. The warden decided she could make stars for herself, too, if she tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapter title pun.


	4. I am still cross with you

“I am still cross with you, you know.” Josephine’s words were somewhat negated by the fact that she was tucked into Lavellan’s arms, but she still managed the haughty, upper class voice she employed against nobles who had overstepped their boundaries. Lavellan laughed gently, tentatively running a thumb over Josephine’s cheek.

“I’ll make it up to you.” She said, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend on the cheek, which became rather flushed at the attention. Josephine’s response was a moment coming, and did so haltingly.

“You had…better. What you did was foolish.”

“Well I wasn’t going to let him swoop in and take you! You’re _my_ girlfriend.” Josephine giggled, and Lavellan grinned involuntarily at her carefree action, snuggling her closer.

“I certainly am.” Smiles, and then silence as they simply enjoyed each other’s company. The farmlands around Val Royeaux rolled by through the carriage window, the sun beginning to set. They’d be back in Skyhold in a few hours.


	5. Storming

Dorian twitched as another lightning bolt hit the valley. Curled up on his window seat he watched the storm roll, sheets of rain crashing against the window, the wind forcing flurries of snow up into the air. He pressed his forehead to the panes and felt the cold seeping into his skin, quickly pulling back when the panes rattled with the force of the storm. Storms had never scared him too much, he liked watching nature in its untamed fury, knowing nothing could calm it. He liked how it was free and uncontrolled, and that if anyone tried to face it they were swept away. Another bolt. Rocks slithered down the cliff on the other side of the valley, though the noise of it was lost to the storm, and he watched them until they fell completely into darkness.

The storm grew louder, stronger, and he needed to be in it. The wind screamed through the gaps in the rocks as he made his way down the stairs, through the hall. Then he stood before the doors, and set his stance wide. A grin on his face, he placed a hand on each door, rolled forwards, and then pushed backwards. Furious, unstoppable, howling, the storm struck him, throwing the doors wide and him to the floor. With bubbling, maniacal glee, he threw his head to the sky and laughed as the rain drenched him, and the wind swallowed his joy.


End file.
